


The One Where Neville Has Plants Everywhere

by cubedcoffeecake



Series: domestic modern magic au [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Roommates, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, domestic magic, i put magic au bc this is irl magic not hp magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 18:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15735369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cubedcoffeecake/pseuds/cubedcoffeecake
Summary: Harry and Neville should probably work on keeping their apartment a bit cleaner.





	The One Where Neville Has Plants Everywhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deathofthenorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathofthenorm/gifts).



> My friend and I decided to each write a drabble based on magic--for me, ritual magic, and for her, divinatory magic--and see how different our drabbles turned out to be. An exercise in writing styles, really.
> 
> I ended up loving this AU! If there's an interest, I'd be open to continuing it as a series with Neville and Harry as magic-practicing flatmates. I'd probably give them more roommates, too.
> 
> All the thanks to Keyflight790 for the wonderful Beta and for help coming up w a title!
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy! <3

“Goodnight, Harry. Don’t mind my nightshade on the sill, eh?”

“‘Course not, Neville. I’ll just set these jars somewhere else,” Harry replied. He turned off the tap and smiled at his roommate. “Have a good night.” Neville waved and closed the door to his room.

Humming under his breath, Harry began to gather the jars he’d just filled with water into his arms. There were almost a dozen, so that was actually a bit of a harrowing task. He could just take multiple trips, but why walk more when he could walk less?

He carefully shuffled across the living room of their apartment and over to the balcony door. Normally Harry would just put his moon water in the east-facing window to charge, but if Neville was using the sill to keep some herbs right now, he’d leave them out on the balcony. He could set them on the ground, probably, right below the railing and they’d be safe from being knocked over…

But tragically, Harry only remembered  _ after _ he’d wedged the door open with his elbow that the balcony was where he had stuck all of the boxes full of the other things he’d been preparing for his ritual Friday. The moon water, charged in the light of January’s full blue blood moon, was going to be his last component.

“Fuck me,” he muttered as he tried to peer around the boxes. It didn’t look like there was any room left out there where the jars would get unobstructed moonlight. He sighed loudly, trying to keep the door from banging shut and disturbing Neville but only really succeeding in cracking his hip on the door.

The apartment was laughably small and positively teeming with his and Neville’s stuff, but there had to be a nice moonlit spot somewhere.

Carefully, Harry set all of the jars back down on the kitchen’s one little counter, cringing at every resounding clink and clack. He walked back into the living room to look for somewhere his jars could go, but the TV table and couch were both covered in a mixture of Harry and Nev’s clothes that neither had ever bothered to fold, intermixed with spare change and bills, books of all kinds, a couple pairs of shoes, and a full herbology kit Neville had left set up on the floor. It looked like the kit was laid out in the perfect spot for Harry to put his jars.

Objectively, Harry knew that it was very unlikely he’d break some part of the kit while trying to move it into the kitchen--Neville was far clumsier than Harry would ever be--and he was the most forgiving sod Harry had ever met, so there was no way Neville would blame Harry if he did drop something.

But… Harry really  _ really _ didn’t want to mess with Neville’s stuff. At all. He didn’t want to touch it. He’d feel bad.

That left the bathroom, which didn’t have a single window, Harry’s bedroom, which also didn’t have a single window, and Neville’s bedroom, which contained both a sleeping Neville and a bunch of plants all over  _ everywhere _ , which was mostly only bad because Harry couldn’t tell the ones that would kill you from the ones that tickle, but he was not risking his death tonight, no thank you.

Which left only one place.

Harry checked on his jars one more time before jogging to his room. He laced up his hiking boots, pulled on some joggers and grabbed a backpack. Back in the kitchen, he scooped up some t-shirts from off the couch and used them as padding as he stuffed all of the jars into the backpack. He then slid on the backpack and stepped out onto the balcony again.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to inch around the boxes and reach the railing, but once he had, he hopped up on the railing and grabbed hold of the overhanging roof. The perks of being on the highest floor didn’t even begin to outweigh the negative of climbing all those stairs every time he left or returned.

He hefted himself up onto the roof of the building and sat down, grinning happily as he swung his feet off the edge. Harry pulled the backpack onto his lap and carefully unpacked each jar, lining them up a foot or two off the edge.

Harry watched as the clear liquid settled in the glass, thinking that the roof was certainly better than the windowsill would’ve been. Now the water would be in the moonlight all night. Which, like,  _ technically _ didn’t make any difference, but  _ shhh _ . Harry was having a moment.


End file.
